


A sweater for Greg

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:41:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24507847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The phone rings, briefly interrupting his project.“Gregory?” Mycroft asks, already knowing who it is.“I told you, you can call me Greg.” He responds, huffing softly“I know.” Is all he saysThere is a long pause“Why did you call?”Greg clears his throat“Uhh- I was wondering if you would like to come to my party?”Or, Greg invites mycroft to a party and mycroft gives Greg a sweater
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 5
Kudos: 52





	A sweater for Greg

Mycroft sits in his office chair mind reeling and fingers furiously working at his knitting. He sighs, placing the colorful yarn creation on the table. 

The phone rings, briefly interrupting his project.   
“Gregory?” Mycroft asks, already knowing who it is.   
“I told you, you can call me Greg.” He responds, huffing softly   
“I know.” Is all he says   
There is a long pause  
“Why did you call?”   
Greg clears his throat  
“Uhh- I was wondering if you would like to come to my party?”   
Mycroft stops tapping his foot   
“Yes- should I bring something?” He asks, already planning ahead.   
“If you want”   
“Alright- thank you”   
“I- I have to go-“ Greg says, sounding annoyed   
“Alright. Goodbye then”   
He hangs up 

Mycroft holds up a emerald green sweater, with a small Gregory stitched yellow on the chest.   
He smiles, satisfied with his work. 

He carefully wraps the box containing it in silver paper.   
No note, no name. 

He pushes the door open and is greeted by many unfamiliar faces,   
They jostle about, the room filled to the max. He briefly sees Sherlock and John sitting on a chair, Sherlock grumbling and John burping his cheek then kissing him, properly shutting him up. 

Mycroft didn’t see Greg. 

He begins patrolling the room, avoiding the people around him.   
Avoiding conversation.   
A large man bumps into him, causing him to topple out of balance.   
Someone’s fingers wrap around his arm, holding him up.   
Scuffed shoes, blue jeans, a sliver of grey socks peaking out from his shoes.   
Gregory  
“Mycroft?”   
He looks up,   
“Thank you for catching me Gregory”   
“Gre-“ he starts to correct him, then ends the word in a grumble, knowing he won’t stop calling him by his full name. 

Greg notices the way that Mycroft attempts to avoid contact with the people around him, and whenever he fails he flinched at the touch, no matter how small. He looks uncomfortable.   
“Uh there’s a guest room if you want to get away from all of the people?”   
Mycroft almost smiles at the gesture   
“Sure” 

They leave the bustling living room and go into the empty guest room. They sit on opposite sides of the bed, Mycroft holding the parcel awkwardly under his arm.   
Greg seems to notice it   
“I am surprised you came- I wasn’t really expecting you too”  
“Oh- I thought it would be rude not to come...”   
Greg chuckles, much to the other mans confusion

“I brought you something..” mycroft finally says into the silence   
He thrusts out his hands, face flushing slightly. Only slightly.   
Greg takes it into his hands gingerly,  
“Should I open it?”   
“If you wish to” mycroft answers 

Greg earnestly rips open his gift, eyes sparkling with curiosity and delight. 

He carefully lifts up the sweater,  
“This is a good quality sweater—“ he starts, then pauses when he sees his name, monogrammed on the front. The calligraphy was a nicer version of his own handwriting.   
“Oh- thank you mycroft!” He says as he hugs his friend, causing said friend to stiffen and cheeks burn. 

Greg walks out of the room in the sweater, proudly showing it off to the other guests. 

Mycroft sits in the corner silently for the next few hours, nervous but not daring to leave. He engages in few conversations, and the ones that do happen are stiff and short. 

The crowd is filtering out, leaving only a few stragglers to fend for themselves. 

Mycroft is clutching his umbrella, ready to exit when Greg walks up to him   
“Mycroft?”   
“Yes?”   
“Sherlock told me you made this- why didn’t you tell me?”   
He silently cursed his brother   
“I didn’t think it was relevant”  
That was only partially a lie, in the whole truth he thinks it is embarrassing he knits. He started to fend off stress but kept doing it out of pleasure and gratification.   
“Well its a beautiful sweater. Did you do the embroidery as well?”   
Mycroft flushes with pride as the object of his affections compliments his work   
“Yes, I wanted to recreate a more readable version of your own handwriting”   
“If that wasn’t coming from you I would have taken that as an insult”   
They talk like this for a little while, chatting about random things. Then mycroft checked the time on his watch, 

“I have to leave. Work tomorrow..” he usually would not give a reason to leave, but he didn’t want Greg to think he was rude. 

“Alright- bye” he hesitates before adding   
“Here’s my personal number.. call me whenever?” 

He takes the small slip of paper so delicately that someone would think it was a bomb. But it isn’t.   
All it is is a mans number.


End file.
